PS 

3511 

153 

P5 

1902 

SRLF 


BERT  FINCK 


PLATS 


By 

VERT  FINCK 

Author  of  "Webs" 


eg 

3S7/ 

T$3 
PS 


I()02 


PRESS     OF   JOHN    7>.     MORTON     AND    COMPANY 
LOUISVILLE,    KENTUCKY 


Copyright,  1902, 
By  BERT  FINCK 


PROLOGUE. 


ART  sat  on  her  throne  of  white  clouds,  in  the  Court  of 
Triumphant  Aspiration,  surrounded  by  glittering 
princes  who  once  were  her  subjects  on  earth. 

Three  muses  suddenly  entered  the  assembly,  and  knelt 
at  the  goddess's  feet.  "A  prize!"  cried  one  sweet  voice 
after  the  other,  "for  my  charge,  your  truest  worshiper 
below  !  " 

Art  quietly  silenced  the  lyrical  noise,  and  spoke  to  the 
first  kneeling  form:  «  Let  me  see  why  it  is  that  he  whom 
you  attend  deserves  so  great  a  reward."  She  raised  her 
wand  and  diminished  space,  and  the  Earth  stood  close  before 
her. 

«'  See,  see!"  exclaimed  the  muse,  in  glee,  "that  town 
burns  with  his  praise  !  His  name  is  painted  on  the  walls  in 
streaks  of  blazing  gold!  Behold  the  crowds,  and  hear  the 
shouts!  His  work  is  passing  by.  And  lo!  there  at  the 
window  he  stands  in  all  his  pride ! " 

Art  did  not  reply  for  a  moment  to  the  rhapsodies  of  the 
first  muse.  Her  eyes  were  disdainfully  scanning  the  artist's 
vainglorious  face.  Her  eyes  became  still  more  disdainful, 
as  he  lifted  his  hand  to  his  lips  and  murmured  in  self- 
adoration  : 

"How  much  I  have  done  for  you,  O  Art!" 

Then  she  laughed,  amidst  the  derision  of  the  entire 
court,  ' '  To  boast  of  what  he  has  done  for  me  ?  "  And  the 
crestfallen  muse  quit  the  attendance. 

"  O  how  different  is  mine!"  the  second  muse  proudly 
began ;  '  <  notice  how  he  sits  alone  in  his  rags  and  misery ! 
Ghosts  of  hunger  and  neglect  lie  against  his  icy  chest;  still 
his  trembling  fingers  clutch  his  brush  and  unsold  pictures." 


r  o 


But  a  frown  was  gathering  upon  the  brow  of  Art,  while 
this  muse  was  so  eagerly  speaking.  The  frown  became  so 
very  deep  that  darkness  fell  upon  the  court  when  the  artist 
shook  his  brush,  and  sighed  with  the  air  of  a  martyr: 

"  How  I  have  suffered  for  you,  O  Art!" 

Then  she  scornfully  inquired,  "To  serve  me,  and  com 
plain?"  And  the  princes  of  the  court  drew  their  swords. 

The  third  muse  did  not  speak  at  all,  but  gently  pointed 
to  a  little  room,  where  an  artist  was  pensively  kneeling. 
Flowers  and  stones  lay  scattered  about;  cold  draughts  of 
adversity  poured  in  through  a  crack;  warm  zephyrs  of 
dreamland  drifted  in  through  another,  and  they  both  paid 
court  to  his  heart.  But  one  hand  of  the  artist  picked  up  a 
stone,  and  the  other  one  clasped  a  flower.  He  pressed  them 
both  against  his  breast,  and  smiled  at  the  zephyrs  and 
then  at  the  draughts. 

"  I  thank  you,  O  Art,"  he  tenderly  said,  "help  me  to 
be  worthy  of  these!"  A  brilliant  glow  spread  through  the 
court,  and  the  air  sang  with  the  applause  of  the  princes,  as 
Art  descended  from  her  throne  and  clasped  the  third  muse 
by  the  hand. 

"You  have  only  to  name  the  prize,"  she  said,  "for 
your  charge,  my  truest  worshiper  below." 


4 


SOLDERO. 

A  HEART'S  TRAGEDY. 


CHARACTERS. 

KORONIE,  The  Queen.  ELOUARD,  A  poet. 

SOLDERO,  Her  favorite.  FLORIANA,  His  love. 

ILDEANA,  A  Lady  of  the  Court.        The  Queen's  attendants. 

SCENE:  A  road  along  the  foot  of  a  hill.  The  Castle 
of  SOLDERO  in  the  distance.  Enter,  on  the 
hill  above  the  road,  SOLDERO. 

SOLDERO.  The  battle's  won;  could  it  be  called  a  battle  ! 
The  truth  in  me  has  triumphed  by  the  aid  of  certainty. 
Let  the  queen  rage  and  strike  me  with  her  power;  she  can 
not  hurt  me  as  my  Floriana  could;  with  all  her  court  and 
armies,  not  as  Floriana  could!  When  that  chaste  maid 
disdained  me,  as  I  fearfully  thought  she  did,  I  was  crushed, 
and  I  was  banished,  even  while  honored  as  never  before; 
the  queen's  gifts  seemed  then  hag's  gifts,  and  the  crown  an 
idle  weight. 

I  just  begin  to  live — I  know  myself;  I  know  I  love,  and 
that  my  love's  returned.  I  have  been  living  in  a  tomb;  'tis 
true,  a  glittering,  gorgeous  tomb,  but  still  a  tomb — a  tomb. 
A  morbid  restlessness  came  over  me  while  there;  I  craved  a 
high-niched  jewel  in  this  brilliant  cell  of  death.  To  reach 
it  I  had  but  to  faintly  knock  at  the  guarded  heart  of  the 
mistress  of  the  cell,  where  a  ladder  would  be  handed  me  on 
which  to  climb — jewel,  cell,  and  mistress  then  to  be  all  mine. 
But  while  I  started  several  times  to  softly  rap — the  door 
already  unbarring  as  I  drew  near — I  beheld  without,  through 
a  slight  crevice  in  my  prison  wall,  an  angel's  face  of  liberty 
and  love;  and  then  I  could  not  rap.  I  turned  and  watched 
the  crevice  and  the  face  which  came  and  went  again,  yet 

5 


S  o  1  d  e  r  o 

never  smiled  at  me.  The  battle  then  began:  to  grasp  the 
jewel,  leave  the  passing  angel  with  the  face  that  dazzled  my 
rich  gloom — forget  the  image  of  seraphic  life  which  floated 
by  without  a  look  at  me,  or  else  break  from  the  tomb  and 
follow  it,  unmindful  whether  it  would  smile  at  me  or  no, 
only  to  breathe  its  divine  atmosphere. 

In  the  height  of  this  struggle  that  waged  in  my  breast, 
the  question  which  stirred  it  was  decided  for  me;  the  angel 
re-appeared  and  called  to  me.  So  away  from  the  homage 
of  court,  gaudy  rubbage !  Away  from  ambition,  the  unrest 
of  ghosts!  The  queen's  love  is  fever;  the  throne,  solitude; 
loud  cheers  for  the  sovereign  mean  beggars  are  near.  The 
tinseled  rags  of  royalty,  the  bended  knee  of  envy  and  of 
spite,  the  herds  of  echoing  slaves,  the  carefully  carved 
words,  tempt  me  no  more;  for  in  the  guiding  starlight  of 
pure  love,  that  leads  me  up  to  spheres  of  clearest  sight,  I 
see  they  are  but  fetters,  though  studded  with  gems.  I  will 
surely  meet  her  here;  she  often  walks  this  way  to  pick  wild 
flowers;  and  so  does  Elouard,  my  only  friend — but  what  a 
friend!  The  noblest  soul  among  all  men  is  he,  the  poet 
Elouard.  I  have  been  blessed  in  friendship  as  in  love. 
Could  I  but  see  him  now  and  tell  him  of  my  happiness,  how 
he  would  laugh  at  first,  and  say,  "What!  the  old  stony 
heart  that  cared  for  only  power,  touched  by  love!  Just  like 
a  good-for-nothing  poet,  after  all!"  But  he  would  quickly 
change  his  tone  of  honest  raillery  and  offer  me  his  tenderest 
congratulations,  and  feel  as  glad  as  though  it  were  himself 
favored  by  the  gods  of  supreme  joy.  He  will  leave  the 
country  with  me;  a  poet's  home  is  his  affections;  he  can  be 
happy  anywhere  when  in  the  midst  of  sympathy. 

I  laugh  at  Koronie's  fury  and  at  her  mouldy  passions;  let 
her  proclaim  me  traitor  and  issue  bitter  writs  of  banishment. 
With  love  and  friendship  at  my  side  I  can  create  a  kingdom 
of  my  own;  a  kingdom?  more  than  that — a  world,  a  universe 
of  my  own.  (He  descends  the  path  leading  down  to  the  road. ) 

6 


S  o  1  d  e  r  o 

Enter  FLORIANA,  gathering  flowers  along  the  way  and 
thrusting  them  into  her  hair, 

FLORIANA  {singing}, 

There's  hope  in  the  heavens; 
There's  peace  in  the  air; 
There's  love  in  the  flowers; 
And  God  everywhere! 

O,  life's  sweet  as  music 
When  hearts  simply  dare 
To  trust  in  the  angels 
And  throw  away  care ! 

SOLDERO  (aside).  The  battle  is  decided,  without  doubt; 
victory  comes  herself  to  deck  my  brow  with  laurel  leaves. 
This  is  the  richest  moment  of  my  life.  I  ask  for  nothing, 
Heaven,  but  to  be  a  little  worthy  of  this  sublime  gift,  and 
that  I  may  be  able  to  make  her  happy — happy  as  she  makes 
me.  That  voice — each  tone  is  worth  more  than  all  the  clink 
ing  sounds  of  majesty,  or  of  triumphant  swords.  How  well 
those  flowers  become  her!  I  have  seen  women — not  a  few 
of  them — the  flowers  in  whose  hair  seemed  to  shrink  into 
themselves,  as  though  ashamed  of  nestling  there;  but  hers 
look  honored  by  their  contact,  and  sparkle  with  the  radiance 
of  her  chastity;  the  very  hills  reflect  the  soft  light  of  her 
soul.  Her  presence  casts  a  spell  of  holy  witchery  over  all; 
I  almost  fear  to  speak,  lest  the  charmed  scene  be  disturbed; 
it  seems  too  weirdly  beautiful  to  be  real. 

FLORIANA  (seating  herself  on  a  rock  and  musing  aloud}. 
And  I  will  throw  away  care,  for  care  is  wicked.  God,  who 
gave  this  precious  love,  will  help  us  to  protect  it;  all  will  be 
well,  one  day.  Only  my  heart  shrinks  from  concealment; 
it  seems  not  right  that  love  should  be  concealed;  why  not 
loudly  proclaim  it  to  all  the  world — a  sacred  bliss  to  gladden 
even  nature  and  to  draw  down  the  spirits  of  the  sky  to  witness 


S  o  1  d  e  r  o 

it?  Still,  Elouard  says  the  queen  has  many  moods,  and 
very  often  strange  ones;  moods  when  she  frowns  on  lovers 
and  tears  them  from  each  other.  He  thinks  it  wise  to  wait  for 
a  kind  hour,  when  she  is  generous — which  means,  when  she 
is  happy,  the  poor  queen! — for  then  she  grants  every  request; 
delights  in  giving  others  pleasure. 

He  says  such  a  mood,  he  knows,  is  very  near  at  hand, 
and  then  he  will  tell  her  of  our  love  and  beg  her  favor  on 
our  speedy  marriage.  Until  that  time  we  must  be  patient — 
hide  our  sweet  love,  lest  it  prove  fatal. 

It  hurts  me  most  of  all  to  think  that  our  secret  must  be 
kept  from  Soldero;  it  seems  almost  like  treason  to  do  so, 
for  Soldero  is  Elouard's  faithful  friend,  who  would  help  us 
with  his  sympathy,  advice,  strength,  even  life. 

But  that  is  why  he  should  never  know,  Elouard  explains; 
for  Soldero  has  almost  reached  his  goal;  and  shall  his  friend, 
to  whom  he  has  been  so  true,  turn  barrier  to  his  triumph 
that  is  so  near? 

The  queen  no  longer  can  delay  her  marriage;  the 
delegates  of  the  people  again  urge  her  to  take  a  spouse,  to 
reign  joint  sovereign  with  her.  She,  fearing  to  offend  her 
subjects  further,  swears  at  a  month's  end  she  will  give  them 
a  king.  And  this  king  will  be  Soldero,  of  course,  unless  he 
loses  her  favor. 

Such  loss  to  him  might  possibly  occur  were  our  love 
offensive  to  the  queen,  and  he  connected  with  it.  I  know 
that  all  of  this  is  very  true;  that  Soldero's  ambition  is  his 
soul — ambition,  and  friendship  for  Elouard,  but  for  none 
else,  and  that  this  friendship  must  not  be  his  doom. 

Yet,  O,  I  could  not  help  it.  Elouard  will  grieve,  I'm 
sure.  I  could  not  help  but  tell  him,  as  I  did,  a  day  ago, 
when  I  met  him  by  the  chapel,  no  one  near.  He  looked  so 
very  open  in  his  joy  when  I  came  up  to  him  ;  almost  like 
Elouard  in  boyish  recklessness;  there's  something  of  the  poet 
in  him,  too,  only  the  poet  is  stifled  by  the  musty  air  of  court. 


Solder 


But  I  could  get  no  further  than  with  "  Soldero,  I  love — " 
when  I  heard  a  stealthy  footstep,  and  the  rustle  of  a  gown, 
and  Lady  Ildeana  crept  by,  she  whom  Elouard  calls  "The 
Serpent  of  the  Court." 

For  Soldero  disdained  her,  I  believe;  how  could  he  love 
a  wicked  heart  like  hers?  And  she  knows  nothing  of  the 
word  "forgive";  breathes  but  to  thwart  our  Soldero's  hopes 
and  plans.  I  acted  very  foolishly  again;  I  always  do;  but 
Elouard  says  he  loves  me  best  for  that.  I  thought  only  of 
danger  being  near — danger  for  Soldero,  and  ran  away.  I 
am  glad  I  did  not  finish  with  my  words,  and  yet,  perhaps  I 
have  done  more  mischief  still  by  vanishing  so  guiltily. 

Well,  I  am  not  a  lady  of  the  court  and  can  not  wear  a 
secret  gracefully.  Poor  Soldero!  I  hope  he  will  win  his 
crown,  if  a  crown  can  give  him  pleasure;  it  would  give 
misery  to  me,  and  to  Elouard  too.  We  could  not  wander, 
with  crowns  upon  our  heads,  over  hills  and  fields  like 
thoughtless  vagabonds,  unmindful  where  we  go;  for  crowns 
check  freedom.  Poor  Soldero!  I  hope  that  I  have  done 
no  harm;  I  am  so  imprudent!  Talking  here  aloud!  Ildeana 
may  have  been  listening  all  this  time,  and  may  be  now  upon 
her  snaky  way  to  the  queen  to  ruin  him.  I  wish  that 
Elouard  were  here,  so  I  could  tell  him  of  my  folly.  He 
could  warn  Soldero  in  time  to  save  himself.  It  seems  so 
strange  that  love,  which  God  gives  us,  should  be  concealed. 
(Rising  and  walking  slowly  down  the  road  until  she  is  out  of 
sight.) 

SOLDERO  (descending  the  path).  O  fool!  fool!  fool! 
fool !  fool !  to  dream  of  playing  poet  and  be  loved !  You  that 
were  born  for  tragedy  alone — the  tragedy  of  ambition  and 
ascent!  As  though  you  could  escape  it,  fool!  fool!  fool! 
Why,  Elouard  never  dreamed  so  wild  a  dream  as  you! 
Elouard,  with  all  his  poetic  fancies,  no  such  dream  as  you ! 
To  dream  of  being  happy  and  beloved !  That  is  all  for 
Elouard — freedom,  love,  peace,  hope  !  You  have  the  crown 


S  o  1  d  e  r  o 

in  place  of  them — the  crown,  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha!  But  crown 
of  what?  For  Elouard  owns  the  world,  and  even  if  he  would 
he  could  not  give  you  part  of  it  to  rule,  except  the  marshy 
lands  of  pity — woman's  pity.  Your  title  to  be  thus,  perhaps, 
"  Soldero,  King  of  Woman's  Pitying  Tears."  O  no,  no, 
no!  The  one  she  aptly  gave  you  is  much  better,  "Poor 
Soldero!"  Poor  Joke-of-Dreams!  Poor  poet  of  a  mocking 
hour!  Poor  dupe  of  impish  voices!  Or,  in  good,  plain,  and 
honest  words,  poor  fool,  poor  fool !  fool !  fool ! 

(Enter  ELOUARD,  riding  hurriedly.} 

Ah,  here  he  comes,  this  mighty  sovereign !  But  why  in 
such  a  hurry?  His  kingdom's  surely  safe.  He's  in  almost 
such  a  hurry  as  poor  Soldero  once  was,  when  he  thought  to 
claim  a  world  and  found  it  gone. 

ELOUARD  (excitedly).  It  is  well  that  I  have  found  you; 
there  is  little  time  to  lose.  Up,  up  on  my  horse  and  away  ! 
(dismounting)  for  the  queen's  in  a  wild  humor  with  your 
absence  of  three  days.  Your  foes  have  not  been  idle. 
Ildeana  has  worked  her  tongue  about  meeting  you  with  a 
woman,  near  the  chapel,  murmuring  love,  and  they  come, 
the  queen  and  your  enemies,  this  way!  Soldero,  I  know 
you  can  defeat  them  in  a  moment,  if  you  will,  but  you  need 
some  preparation,  and  you  do  not  look  so  calm  as  you  should 
be  at  such  a  time;  do  not  let  them  see  you  now.  Quick! 
quick,  they  will  soon  be  here! 

SOLDERO  (bowing  profoundly).  I  am  your  loyal  and 
obedient  servant,  but  will  your  majesty  pardon  my  bold 
tongue  if  it  suggests  the  honor  is  too  weighty — that  of  riding 
my  imperial  sovereign's  horse  ? 

ELOUARD.  There  is  no  time  for  mockery  or  jokes!  I 
know  there  is  no  stouter  breast,  no  shrewder  mind,  or  quicker 
tongue  than  yours  in  all  the  world;  but,  Soldero,  I  would 
not  have  them  triumph  for  a  moment  over  you.  Why,  it 
would  add  even  more  than  fifty  years  to  Ildeana's  hissing 


S  o  1  d  e  r  o 

life  to  see  you  humbled  in  the  eyes  of  the  court;  to  see  you 
frowued  upon  by  her  who,  but  a  day  or  two  ago,  almost 
declared  you  spouse  and  sovereign.  For  honor's  sake, 
throw  aside  your  pride,  my  friend,  and  keep  away  from  them, 
if  only  for  an  hour! 

SOLDERO.  Your  majesty  would  banish  me?  How  has 
poor  Soldero  offended  you?  Where  must  he  go?  To  what  far 
hemisphere,  to  rest  outside  of  Elouard's  boundless  empire? 

ELOUARD.  But  this  is  madness,  Soldero!  (Aside,} 
Upon  my  soul,  I  fear  he  has  gone  mad !  Ambition  can  upset 
the  strongest  intellect.  (Aloud.)  Soldero,  can  you  not 
understand?  'Tis  Elouard,  your  friend,  who  urges  you  to 
save  yourself  from  a  humiliation  sharper  than  wounds  of  all 
the  swords  in  Christendom. 

SOLDERO.  Then  I  am  to  be  banished  for  my  madness? 
But  that  should  have  been  done  some  time  ago,  for  I  am  as 
sane  now,  saner,  King,  than  ever,  and  recognize  my  poverty 
and  your  might. 

ELOUARD.  Mighty  in  happiness,  Soldero,  of  your  friend 
ship;  and  for  that  friendship's  sake,  listen  to  me:  do  not 
disdain  the  counsel  of  your  wisdom — leave  foolish  pride  to 
weaklings — flee  from  here ! 

SOLDERO.  Mighty  in  claiming  love  of  a  pure  woman, 
King  Elouard,  would  you  leave  this  kingdom  out? 

ELOUARD.  Soldero,  forgive.  I  understand  your  mean 
ing,  my  secret  is  discovered  by  my  friend  from  whom,  for 
his  sake,  not  for  mine,  I  hid  it  lest  it  bring  ruin  on  his  almost 
sceptered  reach. 

SOLDERO.  As  though  I  did  not  always  know  your  secret! 
But  you  have  done  wrong.  I  could  have  blessed  your  joy 
when  I  was  still  a  toy  of  royal  fancy.  How  could  I  stand 
poorer  than  I  do  now? 

ELOUARD.  You  still  have  liberty  and  no  humiliation.  A 
man  is  rich  as  long  as  he  has  those;  and  if  you  are  not  mad 


S  o  1  d  e  r  o 

you  will  not  lose  them,  but  leave,   whatever  voice  of  stub 
bornness  may  say. 

SOLDERO  (suddenly').  And  leave  all  my  possessions  to 
rny  friends  and  foes?  My  power  to  these,  my  hopes  to 
those  ?  Well,  I  do  not  begrudge  my  friends  their  spoils, 
but  I'll  die  sword  in  hand,  resisting  a  pillage  by  my  enemies. 

(  The  queen  and  her  party  are  heard  approaching.} 
ELOUARD.      It  is  too  late  for  you  to  avoid  them    now. 
I  pray  your  tongue  may  yet  outwit  their  malice !      But  since 
you  will  unprepared  give  battle,  let  them  fight  two  instead 
of  one. 

(Enter  FLORIANA  quickly.) 

FLORIANA.  Let  them  fight  thee !  Elouard,  forgive !  I 
am  the  cause  of  all  this  trouble ;  I  was  telling  Lord  Soldero 
of  our  love  when  I  heard  Ildeana  and  fled. 

ELOUARD.  So  you  were  the  girl  that  he  met  by  the 
chapel?  The  girl  who  disappeared  when  the  serpent 
appeared?  My  poor  Floriana,  our  secret  is  now  out;  we 
must  give  it  to  the  queen  and  save  Soldero.  You  are  wiser  by 
far  than  I,  sweetheart  philosopher!  It  was  wrong  to  conceal 
our  love  from  our  good  friend,  who  knew  of  it  always — did 
you  not,  Soldero?  Had  we  opened  our  hearts  to  him  much 
might  have  been  spared. 

SOLDERO.  Yes,  he  knew  of  it  always!  Yes,  much 
might  have  been  spared!  (Aside.)  The  battle  is  ended 
forever,  forever!  Dreams  against  reality;  reality  wins! 
The  dream  forces  are  routed,  are  scattered  and  slain,  and 
Soldero's  fate  is  decided.  (Aloud.)  My  friends,  I  will  be 
frank  with  you ;  I  have  had  a  touch  of  madness  which  comes  to 
all  at  times,  but  I  have  learned  to  master  it,  and  I  am  sane 
again,  saner  than  I  have  ever  been,  and  thus  more  powerful. 
Stand  close  to  me,  you  happy  pair  of  lovers,  and  you  will 
shortly  see  that  you  have  lost  nothing  by  your  loyalty,  in 
spite  of  all  my  madness  and  my  foes. 


S  o  1  d  e  r  o 

Enter  queen  and  party,  in  riding  costumes.  The  queen 
looks  disdainfully  before  her,  and  ILDEANA,  just  behind  her, 
smiles  triumphantly  at  SOLDERO. 

SOLDEKO  (springing  fom/ard).  Treason!  treason!  trea 
son  !  You  are  beset  by  traitors,  royal  madam !  Infamous 
plots  are  hatching  in  your  midst  against  the  sacred  welfare 
of  your  scepter !  Forbear  to  move  until  these  plots  are 
shattered.  (He  thrusts  his  sword  between  the  queen  and 
ILDEANA.)  Back!  back,  you  nest  of  mischief -brewing  ser 
pents  !  You  have  hissed  too  soon ;  staffs  are  at  hand  to 
crush  you ! 

KORONIE  (coldly}.  That  treason  is  near  us  we  are  well 
aware,  but  we  did  not  deem  it  would  loudly  proclaim  itself, 
or  dare  to  oppose  our  passage! 

SOLDERO.  And  it  has  not  boldly  proclaimed  itself,  nor 
has  it  stopped  your  perilous  passage.  It  sits  with  flatter 
ing  smile  and  docile  mien  about  you,  madam,  and  smooths 
your  way  to  peril  and  disaster.  No !  courteous  treason  will 
not  stay  your  passage;  that  is  the  part  of  rude  fidelity! 

KORONIE.  We  see  no  loyalty  that  stops  us  now,  but 
faithlessness  which  gives  us  inconvenience. 

SOLDERO.  If  this  be  faithlessness,  then  let  fidelity  die, 
since  it  no  longer  has  a  home  to  nestle  in.  But  before  it 
dies  it  must  offend  again,  by  thrusting  unctuous  craftiness 
away  from  you.  Retire,  and  air  your  closeted  bitter  tongues; 
(to  the  queen's  attendants}  the  queen  would  be  alone  to  hear 
of  dangers  that  menace  her  throne. 

(He  leads  the  queen  away.} 

KORONIE.  This  is  a  jest  to  make  even  stoics  laugh! 
That  Soldero  should  warn  the  throne  of  danger!  Its  safety 
is  so  dear  to  him  that  he  plays,  far  away,  with  moods  that 
do  not  foster  the  good  morals  of  the  land. 

13 


S  o  1  d  e  r  o 

SOLDERO.  Deception  always  curls  itself  near  us,  ready 
at  any  moment  to  spring;  sincerity  stands  at  a  distance,  on 
a  hilltop,  guarding  our  interest  with  clearer  view.  And  if 
bright  dreams  corrupt  a  nation's  morals,  the  moods  that  are 
my  comrades  are  most  impure  indeed. 

ILDEANA  {advancing}.  Your  majesty  will  pardon  my  seem 
ingly  forward  tongue,  but  this  may  be  a  clever  scheme  to 
lure  you  from  protection. 

KORONIE  {aside).  Could  I  but  think  he  cared  to  carry 
me  away!  {Aloud.)  Your  tongue's  as  strange  as  it  is  bold, 
my  lady  Ildeana.  Koronie  to  know  fear!  You  are  at  liberty 
to  seek  dangers  a  little  while  among  these  hills  and  let  us 
hear  of  dreams  that  take  the  shape  of  women.  (!LDEANA 
retires.  ) 

SOLDERO.  Of  woman,  yes;  dreams  ever  of  one  woman, 
but  it  is  not  of  that  dream  I  now  can  speak,  but  of  a  boon 
which  I  pray  you  grant  me,  madam,  before  I  meet  the 
punishment  dealt  by  my  loss  of  favor. 

KORONIE.  There  was  a  Soldero  once  who  only  had  to 
breathe  a  wish  and  that  wish  would  be  granted,  for  this  was 
due  his  services  unto  a  grateful  queen.  But  he,  it  seems, 
has  lately  passed  away,  and  one  who  bears  his  name  is  but 
a  mockery  of  him.  Still,  for  the  sake  of  that  old  once-loved 
name,  he  that  ungracefully  bears  it  need  not  utter  his  request 
in  vain. 

SOLDERO.  It  is  to  make  not  me,  but  others,  happy.  I 
have  a  friend,  rich  with  the  gold  of  a  true  poet's  soul,  who 
loves  a  gentle  girl.  But  he  is  as  tenderly  considerate  as  he 
is  great  in  song,  and  fearing  to  disturb  the  soft  air  of  my 
dream — my  haunting  dream,  lit  by  a  woman's  face — he 
checked  his  natural  impulse  to  share  with  me  his  bliss,  which 
needed  the  smile  of  his  sovereign  before  it  could  be  called 
complete.  Not  so  with  her,  the  dove-like  maiden  of  his 
heart;  it  seemed  dishonest  to  her  saintly  reasoning  to  hide 
the  rarest  and  most  envied  gift  that  heaven  bestows  on 


S  o  1  d  e  r  o 

mortals.  And  thus,  one  evening,  as  I  whispered  to  a  vision, 
this  girl  passed  by  the  chapel  door  and  gently  cried  ' «  Soldero, 
I  love,"  but  before  she  had  spoken  the  name  of  her  lover 
she  was  frightened  by — a  snake.  For  love,  my  queen,  is 
as  timid  as  it  is  daring,  at  times,  and  from  the  creeping 
presence  of  malice,  why,  even  an  angel  would  fly. 

KORONIE.      This  girl — where  is  this  girl? 

SOLDERO.  Your  interest  gives  me  hope  for  the  peace  of 
my  friends.  I  see  they  still  are  here,  Elouard  and  Floriana. 
I  was  chiding  them  when  you  appeared,  for  their  not  having 
confided  in  me  when  it  was  in  my  power  to  intercede  for 
them.  I  trust  it  is  not  yet  too  late,  and  that  your  generous 
majesty  will  not  darken  the  dawn  of  their  paradise  because 
of  their  friendship  for  me. 

KORONIE  {advancing  quickly  to  ELOUARD  and  FLORIANA). 
Girl,  where  was  it  that  you  spoke  to  the  Lord  Soldero  of 
your  love  ? 

FLORIANA.  Of  my  love  for  Elouard? — by  the  chapel.  I 
am  so  thoughtless,  pardon  me,  your  majesty.  I  meant  no 
wrong  to  any  one  at  all. 

KORONIE.  Your  only  wrong,  my  dear,  lay  in  not  coming 
to  your  queen  and  sharing  with  her  the  secret  of  your  love. 
What,  is  she  then  so  terrible  that  lambs  like  you  must  shrink 
from  her?  Here,  Elouard,  you  can  sing  no  poem  such  as 
this.  {Placing  ELOUARD'S  hand  in  FLORIANA'S.)  Take  care 
of  her,  for  I  am  her  protector  still,  even  after  you  may  call 
her  wife,  which  must  be  very  soon.  (  The  lovers  are  about 
to  sink  on  their  knees  before  her,  but  she,  arresting  them, 
kisses  FLORIANA  with  '•'•God  bless  you  both,  and  make  you 
happy  forever! '"  She  then  returns  to  SOLDERO,  who  stands 
in  a  musing  attitude. ) 

KORONIE.  Your  boon  is  granted — could  it  be  called  a 
boon — it  was  a  gift  to  me,  this  precious  opportunity. 

SOLDERO.  I  thank  you,  madam  ;  from  my  heart,  I  thank 
you.  I,  who  no  longer  can  be  happy,  since  my  one  dream 

15 


S  o  1  d  e  r  o 

is  broken — broken — may  find  some  hours  of  gentle  reverie  in 
the  knowledge  of  the  happiness  of  my  friends.  Now,  of 
these  dangers  that  harass  your  throne,  if  you  will  hear  them 
from  an  accused  traitor's  lips. 

KORONIE.  First  tell  me  of  this  dream,  this  one,  one 
woman-dream  which  now,  you  say,  is  broken  and  leaves  for 
you  no  happiness  more. 

SOLDERO.  My  only  treason — if  it  be  treason — lies  in 
my  dreams. 

KORONIE.  We  can  forgive  a  dreamer  much,  for  we  have 
also  dreamed.  (Aside.)  'Tis  not  his  dreams,  but  his  lack 
of  dreams,  that  I  have  lately  dreaded. 

SOLDERO.  (Pointing  toward  the  queen's  attendants,  a 
little  way  off,  who  are  watching  his  interview  with  KORONIE 
with  ill-concealed  anxiety. ) 

But  they  are  traitors,  not  in  dreams  but  in  actions ; 
they,  knowing  of  the  dream  that  tortured  me — the  dream 
that  drove  me  from  my  sovereign's  presence  lest  it  take  fire 
and  burn  me  in  her  sight — basely  maligned  it;  used  it  for 
their  venom ;  sought  to  deprive  the  throne  of  its  most 
steadfast  guard.  Nay,  more  than  this;  they  aimed  at 
murder,  for  it  means  death  unto  this  guard  to  see  his  dream- 
face  frown  on  him. 

KORONIE  (eagerly).      This  dream-face  then  is  whose? 

SOLDERO.  Here  is  the  treason  of  my  soul;  forgive  it, 
Heaven,  if  thou  canst!  The  face  which  tantalized  my 
brain — which  gave  me  day,  which  gave  me  night,  which 
sent  me  from  you,  drew  me  back — this  face,  O  Queen,  is 
yours !  And  here  is  still  greater  treason  of  my  soul ;  for 
give  it,  Heaven!  Forgive  it,  Queen!  That  face  in  vision 
smiled  into  mine,  not  as  a  sovereign  on  a  devoted  subject, 
but  even  as  Floriana's  illumines  Elouard's.  And  now  that 
dream  has  faded,  faded !  How  dreams  do  strengthen  and 
inflate  our  breasts  with  health,  with  hope  and  daring  courage ! 


S  o  1  d  e  r  o 

But  when  they  are  gone  all  the  earth  seems  barren  and  our 
vitality  vanished.  I  have  confessed  my  treason  to  my  queen, 
and  whatever  chastisement  she  chooses  to  inflict  on  me  can 
not  be  greater  than  the  one  which  I  have  already  received — 
my  dream-world  ravished  from  me. 

ILDEANA  (advancing rapidly).  Your  majesty,  loud  rumors 
are  afloat  of  insurrections  led  by  a  lord  high-seated  in  the 
court. 

SOLDERO  (aside).  The  snake's  last  hiss !  Would  I  could 
wish  that  it  had  taken  effect. 

KORONIE.  We  were  just  about  to  call  you  to  inform 
you  of  the  news.  The  treason  has  been  discovered  and  the 
traitor  has  confessed.  Here,  Elouard,  leave  your  bride  a 
moment;  call  my  attendants  to  me,  so  they  may  hear  the 
sentence  passed  by  their  queen  on  treachery. 

SOLDERO  (aside).  To  play  a  part  into  which  you  put 
your  heart  is  great  indeed;  but  to  triumph  in  a  part  with 
out  a  heart  to  put  into  it  is  surely  greater  still ! 

KORONIE  (to  her  attendants  who  eagerly  reply  to  her 
summons).  Behold  this  wretch,  who  dared  to  love  his  queen ! 
For  such  high  treason  she  will  punish  him  by  depriving  him 
of  liberty  forever;  she  herself  to  be  his  jailer.  And  as  an 
added  punishment  for  his  crime  she  will  press  his  head 
down  with  the  heaviness  of  a  crown.  Salute  your  king ! 
My  lady  Ildeana,  you  have  been  so  actively  engaged  in  scent 
ing  out  this  treason  that  you  surely  must  be  weary  and,  for 
your  health's  sake,  we  bid  you  to  return  unto  your  father's 
castle  and  tell  him  that  the  queen  commands  him  to  take  his 
daughter  traveling.  And  you,  my  lord  of  Baldico,  who 
were  strenuously  employed  in  this  same  business,  you  had 
better  travel,  also,  for  your  health's  sake.  I  will  bestow  a 
great  favor  upon  you,  my  lord  of  Firman ;  you  were  so 
greatly  troubled  about  Lord  Soldero's  conspiracies  that  it 
must  be  a  pleasure  to  you  to  trumpet  the  traitor's  doom. 
Inform  the  people  of  the  neighborhood  that  their  queen 

17 


S  o  1  d  e  r  o 

grants  their  request  even  before  the  two  weeks  have  been 
ended — that  Soldero  is  their  king.  As  for  you,  my  lady 
Kashiru — and  you — and  you — 

(  While  she  continues  speaking  in  the  same  mocking  vein  to 
her  alarmed  attendants  ELOUARD  and  FLORIANA  approach 
SOLDERO.) 

ELOUARD.  Your  ambition  then  has  triumphed,  Soldero; 
you  have  won  the  crown.  (Clasping  SOLDERO'S  hand.} 

SOLDERO.  Yes,  it  has  triumphed.  (After  a  pause.)  But 
what  of  that?  The  crown  is  nothing  to  me.  'Twas  not 
the  crown  that  worried  me,  that  turned  me  mad  and  forced 
me  to  greet  you  strangely,  Elouard,  a  while  ago ;  it  was — 
the  world  will  not  believe  it  but  you  will,  my  friend,  you 
will  believe  it — it  was  because  I  loved  the  queen  for  her 
own  self  and  feared  she  did  not  understand  my  love,  but 
thought  I  aimed  at  sovereignty  alone.  I  find  I  was  mistaken, 
and  my  troublesome  ghost  has  been  laid. 

ELOUARD.  How  glad  I  am  to  hear  this,  Soldero!  There 
is  no  shadow  on  my  happiness  now  at  all.  Hear!  Hear! 
He  loves  her,  Floriana!  (Kissing  FLORIANA.) 

FLORIANA.  Forgive  me,  Soldero!  How  I  misjudged  you! 
And  we  will  all  be  happy  now,  so  happy! 

SOLDERO.      Yes,  we  will  all  be  happy  now — so  happy ! 

ELOUARD.  After  all,  there  is  nothing  that  can  take  the 
place  of  love,  is  there,  Soldero  ? 

SOLDERO.  No,  there  is  nothing  that  can  take  the  place 
of  love,  Elouard — Floriana. 

( The  queen  joins  them ;  her  attendants  have  all  disap 
peared.  ) 

KORONIE.  How  gloriously  the  sun  is  setting!  And  hear 
that  bird's  rhapsodic  song !  The  very  winds  seem  to  be 
wooing,  and  the  leaves  are  whispering  affectionate  words ! 
Come,  love  makes  poets  of  us  all.  Let  us  stroll  toward 

18 


S  o  1  d  e  r  o 

King  Soldero's  castle,  where  we  will  sup  and  speak  what  is 
in  our  hearts.      You  are  not  coming,  Soldero  ? 

SOLDERO.  I  lost  a  jewel.  I  will  follow  you  on  Elouard's 
horse  in  just  a  moment. 

( The  queen,  with  her  arm  about  FLORIANA'S  waist  and 
ELOUARD  at  her  side,  ascends  the  hill.  SOLDERO  stoops  as 
though  looking  for  something  and  when  they  are  out  of  sight 
he  kneels  before  the  stone  on  which  FLORIANA  sat,  soliloquizing. ) 

Here  is  where  Soldero  died!      And  they  will  bury  him  soon 
in  a  tomb  of  gold,  with  all  the  hollow  pageantry  of  death. 

(As  he  arises  from  his  knees  a  nun  passes  by.)  Sister,  a 
life  has  just  now  passed  away;  pray  for  this  departed  soul. 

(He  moves  toward  ELOUARD'S  horse,  but  stops  on  hearing 
jubilant  shouts  of  "A  King!— A  King!  Our  SOLDERO  is  our 
King!  SOLDERO  and  KORONIE!  Long  live  SOLDERO,  our 
King!")  The  dirge! 


KIOWANA. 

A  TRAGEDY  IN  THREE  ACTS. 


CHARACTERS. 

KIOWANA,  Priestess  of  Hell. 

GLUKO,  Her  Attendant. 

YAJEHO,  Her  Dwarf. 

SYLVADOR,  A  Jealous  Lover. 

(  RODERIC    )   TT 

0   .  .,      r  \  /Her  attendants 

Spirits  of  1  and         y   ,    r        „ 

)  „                 f   before  GLUKO. 

(  ELDERO,    ) 

YAJECHIN,      A  Baboon. 
Elementary  Spirit  Voices. 

ACT  I. 

A  room  of  rotunda-like  form,  the  walls  of  which  are 
covered  with  heavy  black  velvet,  A  solitary  light  shows 
KIOWANA,  clad  in  a  scarlet  robe,  with  a  purple  flower  in  her 
yellow  hair,  sitting  on  a  raised  seat.  At  her  feet  squats  the 
dwarf,  YAJEHO,  grotesquely  attired,  twisting  the  tail  of 
YAJECHIN,  the  baboon. 

YAJEHO  (muttering).  An  owl  rode  on  a  he-goat's  back 
to  visit  the  sisters  of  Satan.  Oh,  that  is  what  a  frog  told 
me  as  he  sat  on  a  lily-pad,  dreaming! 

BABOON.     Umph-humph!   Umph-humph!   Umph-humph! 

KIOWANA.  Cease  your  chattering  jargon!  Let  the 
baboon  go!  Call  Gluko  at  once!  Begone! 

(Enter  GLUKO,  swinging  a  whip.} 

GLUKO  (striking  the  dwarf  and  baboon.)  Yajeho  and 
Yajechin,  ape  and  baboon!  Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha!  Brew  the 
Devil's  broth  for  the  Devil's  Hour !  Kiowana  is  hungry  for 
the  feast ! 


Ki 


a  n  a 


(YAJEHO  and  the  baboon  run  from  the  room,  screaming.) 

KIOWANA.  Gluko,  you  drunken  clown,  take  care!  My 
patience  with  your  presumption  must  soon  have  an  end; 
how  dare  you  strike  my  beasts?  Beware,  beware  of  my 
tired  mood! 

GLUKO.  Kiowana,  enchantress  of  Gluko's  thoughts,  your 
slightest  frown  shivers  his  heart!  (He  kisses,  with  mocking 
grace,  her  hand. ) 

KIOWANA.      Has  Sylvador  come? 

GLUKO.      Is  a  fool  ever  wanting  when  folly  is  near? 

KIOWANA.      Not  while  the  sot  Gluko  lives! 

GLUKO.  Rail  not  against  your  work,  Kiowana,  you  have 
besotted  him.  Yes,  Sylvador  is  here — a  greater  fool  than 
Gluko,  since  vengeance  is  his  motive. 

KIOWANA.      Then  bring  this  wonder  in. 

GLUKO.  Kiowana,  Empress  of  Black  Art,  hail!  High- 
Priestess  of  the  spells  of  Hell!  Dispenser  of  the  souls  of 
men!  Gluko  brings  you  your  master — pardon — your 
slave!  (Aside.}  She  calls  me  a  drunken  clown,  but  I  am 
neither  too  drunk  nor  too  stupid  to  fathom  the  drift  of  her 
wiles.  (Gluko  saunters,  carelessly  laughing,  into  the  hall.} 

KIOWANA.  Madman!  You  rush  on  to  your  doom!  O, 
weary  companions  are  folly  and  fraud!  After  to-night  I  am 
through  with  you  all;  a  new  life  begins  with  new  love! 
Sylvador!  Sylvador,  you  have  awakened  me!  Sylvador! 
Sylvador,  crown  of  my  destiny!  Lo!  from  the  depths  of 
my  infernal  reverie  I  spring  to  your  breast  and  ascend! 
Hear  me,  you  serpentine  creatures  of  chaos!  Imps  that 
controlled  me  before  I  was  born!  I  have  been  faithful  to 
my  lonely  mission — at  the  altar  of  magic  I  sacrificed  fools. 
Now  is  the  time  to  reward  me,  sweet  demons!  The  favor  I 
crave  is  not  hard  to  bestow;  yet  why  should  I  name  it? 
You  know  all  my  feelings — you  know  that  I  love  him, 
this  hot  Sylvador!  He  seeks,  in  his  passion,  my  occult 


Iv  i  o  w  a  n  a 

assistance  to  tear  from  his  rival  the  girl  both  adore;  he  soon 
will  be  here — the  mad  Gluko  prepares  him;  help  me  to 
crush  his  love  for  her  who  spurns  him,  and  to  lure  him  into 
my  warm  arms.  (A  diabolical  laugh  is  heard. )  It  is  not 
true  that  you  laugh  at  me,  devils!  Do  you  believe  that  my 
senses  are  gone  in  that  I  would  give  up  my  richly-paid 
living  for  the  sake  of  a  stranger  whose  rage  masters  me? 
O,  you  forget  that  with  all  her  weird  powers,  your  priestess 
is  human!  She  needs  more  than  gold!  The  gold  that  you 
gave  her  for  banning  and  tricks;  her  name  which  strikes 
terror;  her  palace,  a  queen's,  alone  in  the  wood  here,  where 
sorrow  and  spite  are  turned  into  victims  of  fever  and,  duped, 
make  but  a  dull  shadow  of  true  recompense  for  service  to 
unholy  spirits.  Love  is  the  only  return  you  can  give  her — 
love,  the  ambrosia  that  tempts  gods  and  men  to  struggle,  to 
battle,  to  kneel,  and  to  lie  for;  the  price  is  not  high  for  the 
work  she  has  done!  (Another  laugh  is  heard.)  Ha,  ha,  I 
laugh  with  you!  The  jest  were  upon  me  did  I  once  consider 
frail  coquetries  love.  No,  you  have  not  paid  me.  My  flirta 
tious  dealings  with  Roderic,  Eldero,  Gluko,  the  beast, 
were  trivial  games  to  preserve  my  brain's  forces  from  weari 
ness  born  of  contempt  for  mankind.  ( The  laiighter  con 
tinues;  she  springs  from  her  seat.)  You  think  Sylvador  is 
another  toy  merely  for  my  fancy  to  sport  with?  O,  listen  ! 
Not  one  of  these  troublesome  water-pates  caused  me  to 
tremble,  except  with  impatience — to  love  is  to  fear.  But 
how  my  frame  quivered  beneath  this  man's  wrath-flame! 
He  did  not  entreat,  but  commanded  my  aid,  as  though  it 
were  due  him,  and  I  proud  to  serve  him.  I  recognized  love 
when  it  came  like  a  storm.  ( The  laughter  increases;  she 
closes  the  door.)  If  he  hears  this  derision  my  power  is  gone. 
So  this  is  the  way  that  the  devils  pay  wages — to  mock  when 
the  time  comes  to  settle  accounts.  I  had  all  the  fire  that  a 
mortal  can  burn  with;  how  often  death  danced  in  my  heart! 
And  when  I  would  bury  those  torturous  hours  in  joys  to 


K  i  o  w  a  n  a 

which  I  have  just  claim,  they,  who  owe  it  to  me  for  infamous 
labors,  reply  to  my  yearning  with  jeers.  (The  laughter  grows 
louder  and  wilder,  and  murmuring  voices  are  heard.)  Well,  I 
have  enough  of  your  contemptuous  laughter;  I  leave  you 
forever  with  your  debts  unpaid.  (She  picks  up  a  wand  by 
the  raised  seat  and  breaks  it,)  I  renounce  all  my  charms  that 
are  wielded  by  you ;  but  I  still  have  some  charms  of 
my  own.  (Even  while  she  tries  vainly  to  open  the  door  the 
flickering  light  is  extinguished  by  invisible  hands  and  chaotic 
sounds  stir  the  air.)  In  what  hideous  way  do  you  hope  to 
restrain  me?  This  hissing  and  swishing  means  malice 
is  near!  ( The  blackness  turns  into  deep  blue;  two  shadowy 
forms  stand  before  the  raised  seat. ) 

FIRST  SHADOW.  Return  to  your  throne.  What  you  sue 
for  is  granted. 

KIOWANA.  How  foolish  it  was  to  have  doubted  your 
favor,  Satanic  protectors!  I  meant  no  offense.  You  can 
not  be  angry  with  rage — it  is  evil;  and  if  love  sounds  too 
gentle,  call  my  passion  lust.  (The  notes  of  a  trumpet  pierce 
through  the  closed  door.)  The  trumpet  of  Gluko!  Being 
drunk  he  blows  well.  The  Devil's  Hour-service  begins.  You 
will  not  desert  me?  I  had  no  intention,  even  in  my  ill 
humor,  of  serving  your  foes;  white  angels  of  heaven  will 
not  flutter  near  me,  for  the  breath  of  my  schemes  would 
soon  blacken  their  wings.  Before  night  is  over  the  irksome 
antics  of  Gluko  will  be  ended  forever  by  poison  or  sword, 
as  I  did  rid  my  bored  self  of  like  playthings  before  him — 
Roderic  and  Eldero,  when  they  amused  me  no  more.  Is 
not  this  a  dish  for  you,  fiends?  And  when  I  have  captured 
the  prey  of  my  bosom — the  prize  you  award  for  condemned 
industry — even  while  I  am  feasting  I  shall  not  be  idle,  for 
each  morsel  I  swallow  pays  tribute  to  sin.  ( The  trumpet 
sounds  again,  nearer.}  Another  blast  of  the  trumpet;  scorned 
and  scorner  approach;  the  one  to  his  death,  the  other  to 

23 


Ki 


o  w  a  n  a 


my  breast,  and,  coming  to  love  me,  he  comes  to  love  hell. 
Mischief  enough  for  a  woman  to  do!  The  devils  should 
give  me  their  blessing. 

SECOND  SHADOW.  We  promise  assistance.  You  shall 
have  your  reward! 

ACT  II. 
THE  SAME  AS  ACT  I. 

The  solitary  light  as  before.  Opposite  the  raised  seat, 
against  the  wall,  the  two  shadowy  figures  stand  rigidly. 
KIOWANA,  on  the  dais,  looks  alternately  at  them  and  toward 
the  door. 

KIOWANA.  They  never  appeared  thus  before.  Their 
voices  seem  strangely  familiar,  and  yet,  not  as  spirits,  but 
mortals,  whom  I  have  once  very  well  known.  I  wish  that 
this  night  of  capricious  fate  were  over  and  my  dangerous 
spells  ended  forever.  Did  they  only  not  stare  at  me  so;  or, 
since  they  must  ceaselessly  stare,  did  their  faces  not  con 
tinually  change,  as  clouds,  now  threatening  with  black,  and 
now  with  livid  hue,  but  always  rolling,  rolling. 

Courage,  Kiowana,  courage!  you  who  have  dared  to 
bargain  with  the  abysmal  shadows  need  never  tremble  more. 
The  limit  is  reached  when  flesh  communes  with  space;  flesh 
then  becomes  the  master.  Down,  down,  unreal  fear!  (  Two 
strokes  of  a  bell  float  throttgh  the  deep  air.)  The  Devil's 
Hour  is  come,  and  love  and  death  are  at  the  door!  I  must 
be  calm  to  greet  them. 

(Enter  GLUKO,  fantastically  dressed  in  green,  with  a 
trumpet  in  one  hand  and  a  goblet  in  the  other,  accompanied 
by  SYLVADOR  in  a  flowing  red  robe,  with  coronet  and  staff. 
Followed  by  YAJEHO,  leading  the  baboon,  which  is  costumed 
in  the  habit  of  a  monk. ) 

34 


K  i  o  w  a  n  a 

SYLVADOR  {advancing  angrily  to  KIOWANA).  This  tinseled 
mummery,  priestess,  no  doubt  befits  your  dupes  but,  unless 
your  powers  are  dull,  you  must  know  I  am  none  of  these. 
I  demand  of  you  merely,  Kiowana,  to  do  what  I  myself 
could  do  were  it  not  for  my  heated  temper  which  disturbs 
the  charms  held  by  each  strong  mind.  You,  having  no 
interest  whatever  in  passions  that  agitate,  can  steadily 
wield  your  native  magic  to  bless  or  to  curse  as  you  will. 
No  buffoonery  is  needed  to  accomplish  that  which  requires 
but  a  self-possessed  mood;  since  I  am  acquainted  with  the 
secret  of  your  spells,  why  am  I  treated  as  a  fool? 

YAJEHO  (Lying  on  his  back  on  the  floor,  'with  the  baboon 
between  his  crooked  legs,  at  KIOWANA'S /<?£/). 

Oh,  I  thought  I  would  break  my  jaws  laughing!  Gray 
Night-mare,  the  witch's  cat,  singed  his  blue  whiskers  while 
his  mistress  was  frying  bat-liver.  Crying,  "  Curse  you!  curse 
you!  curse  you!"  he  clawed  out  her  yellow  eyes  ;  so  now 
she  has  only  two  bleeding  holes  to  ogle  the  Devil  with! 

BABOON.    Umph-humph!    Umph-humph!    Umph-humph. 

KIOWANA.  Jabbering  air,  remember  the  whip!  (Aside.) 
He  says  all  this  in  the  presence  of  these  starers!  (Aloud.) 
Do  you  not  see  those  awful  shadows  there?  They  come 
directly  from  the  spirit-world  to  aid  my  uncanny  practice. 

SYLVADOR.  I  see  more  idle  jugglery;  and  even  were 
they  beings  of  another  sphere,  they  would  as  readily  come 
to  me  as  to  you,  did  I  yield  myself  up  to  them.  There  is 
nothing  that  I  fear  in  flesh  or  air  except  to  be  balked  of  my 
purpose,  and  that  shall  never  happen  while  I  live. 

KIOWANA  (aside).  How  little  do  they  know  who  boast! 
The  delusions  of  the  conceited  are  sweet!  Yet  it  is  the 
magnetism  of  his  conceit  which  makes  me  love  him  so. 
(Aloud.)  You  speak  shrewdly,  Sylvador;  still,  keep  your 
vestments  on,  since  what  we  are  robed  in  often  checks  or 
loosens  our  flow  of  talent.  Now,  do  not  you,  who  easily 

25 


K  i 


a  n  a 


wins  a  way  into  the  coldest  female  heart,  feel  lighter  in  your 
grace  when  clad  in  gallant  garb? 

SYLVADOR.  Lighter,  perhaps,  had  I  no  clothing  on  at 
all.  No  finery  can  smooth  the  tongue  that  captures  men's 
and  women's  eyes;  no  rags  can  stop  a  fiery  hand  from  thrust 
ing  its  sword  into  a  rival's  breast! 

KIOWANA.      Pray,  why  not  use  that  sword? 

SYLVADOR.  Why,  if  I  used  it,  would  his  corpse  cause 
her  to  even  clasp  my  hand?  His  blood,  which  I  so  itch  to 
spill,  would  flow  in  triumph  over  me  and  fill  her  bosom  with 
still  deeper  love  for  him;  for  she  is  no  unnatural  woman, 
whose  fidelity  death  can  chill.  Therefore,  I  come  to  you. 
Since  love  is  all  enchantment,  weird  spells  alone  can  deal 
with  it.  He  won  her  lips  through  witchery,  else  why  should 
she  care  for  him?  He  is  a  student,  merely,  and,  unlike  me, 
not  of  noble  birth. 

GLUKO  (standing  against  the  wall,  near  the  door,  beside  a 
small  table,  on  which  he  rests  his  goblet,  when  not  raising 
it  to  his  lips}.  (Aside.}  He  thinks  himself  so  wise,  and 
yet  he  talks  as  though  love  had  aught  to  do  with  lack  of 
brains  or  station!  Kiowana  has  fondled  sovereigns,  im 
beciles,  and  slaves  ;  she  once  even  petted  me,  the  only  wise 
fool  in  the  room,  for  I  have  sense  enough  to  know  that  all  is 
folly  in  this  world — but  drink.  What  do  those  shadows 
here?  Kiowana  must  be  weak,  indeed,  from  love,  since  her 
fiend-masters  appear  themselves  to  strengthen  her  conjuring 
mischief.  Well,  let  us  see  how  the  play  ends  ;  curiosity  and 
drink  save  life  from  being  a  bore. 

SYLVADOR.  The  hour  you  call  the  Devil's  has  almost 
passed.  I  came  to  see  you  several  nights  ago,  for  the  pur 
pose  I  explained.  You  could  have  done  the  work  as  easily 
then — I  had  the  fee  at  hand — as  now ;  but  even  priestesses, 
it  seems,  must  be  perverse.  My  troublesome  rides  through 
these  deceiving  woods  are  hardly  less  agreeable  than  this 
absurd  regalia  and  delay,  or  company  of  a  sot. 

26 


K  i  o  w  a  n  a 

GLUKO  {aside).  Who  pricks  you  with  his  wit?  There 
are  heads  wiser  drunk  than  others  sober. 

YAJEHO.  The  frogs  were  dancing  with  the  lizards  in  the 
moonlight,  about  a  hag  of  the  earth;  she  emptied  her  ladle 
upon  them,  and  they  turned  into  beautiful  girls,  but  when 
they  smiled  you  could  see  by  their  teeth  that  they  all  were 
the  daughters  of  fiends. 

BABOON.     Umph-humph  !  Umph-humph  !  Umph-humph  ! 

KIOWANA.  Gluko,  out  with  the  freak  and  the  baboon! 
(GLUKO  walks  very  deliberately  to  YAJEHO  and  the  BABOON  and 
carries  them,  one  after  the  other,  kicking  and  gibbering,  out  of 
the  room,  returning  afterwards.}  I  do  not  need  your  fee. 
{Aside. )  In  what  contempt  he  holds  me  !  With  what  con 
tempt  he  would  receive  my  love  !  My  wand  is  broken,  so  I 
must  use  my  tongue  to  charm  him,  and  my  tongue  is  weary, 
weary.  And  then  those  shadows — they  unfix  my  thoughts. 
My  spirit-masters  never  acted  thus  before.  Why  will  they 
do  so  now?  At  one  moment  they  seem  to  turn  into  faces  I 
have  known,  and  then  they  change  again.  How  can  I  play 
a  part  before  Uncertainty?  Still,  I  must  try  to  say  a  word. 
{Aloud.}  Sylvador!  {Aside.}  Oh,  I  cannot!  My  voice 
begins  to  falter;  I  am  lost!  {Aloud.}  Sylvador!  {Aside.} 
Weakness  glides  over  me  !  I  am  tired,  tired  ;  would  I  were 
resting  in  his  arms  !  O  precious  dream,  that  saves  me  from 
life's  bitterness.  Will  it  be  ever  realized?  ( The  room  sud 
denly  becomes  entirely  dark.} 

ACT  III. 

THE    SAME. 

{The  darkness  has  turned  into  a  beautiful  motning  glow. 
Sweet  strains  of  music  float  above  and  about.  The  shadowy 
figures  are  gone. } 

KIOWANA.  The  music  of  my  dream  !  O  Sylvador  !  And 
they  have  done  this  for  me !  They  were  not  thankless  as  I 

27 


K  i  o 


w  a  n  a 


thought  they  were.  They  showed  you,  did  they  not,  how 
foolish  was  your  love  for  her?  How  foolish  thoughts  of 
vengeance? 

SYLVADOR.  Foolish,  perhaps,  were  my  thoughts  of 
vengeance.  This  music  at  least  soothes  my  hate  away. 
No,  do  not  harm  my  rival  in  the  least,  or  cause,  if  possible, 
my  love  to  shed  a  tear;  bring  her  unto  me  gently.  For, 
under  the  spell  of  this  angelic  music,  I  think  of  days  when 
I  was  nearer  Heaven  than  now,  and  when  my  dreams  had 
wings.  (Aside.')  Oh,  did  I  but  feel  that  she  cared  half  so 
much  for  me  as  she  dotes  upon  him,  I  would  have  been  a 
better  man,  and  not  be  wooing  sin  now. 

KIOWANA.  A  dream  from  which  let  us  never  awaken, 
Sylvador!  They  have  departed,  those  ugly  shadows,  after 
they  at  last  gave  us  to  one  another.  Let  us  flee  far  from 
them  and  from  these  scenes  of  hateful  recollection.  I  have 
riches  enough  to  feed  our  outward  pleasures,  and  I  will  never 
exert  my  dark  powers  again,  unless  it  be  to  make  you 
happy.  Come,  Sylvador!  (She  draws  her  arm  about  his 
neck.)  Do  you  not  feel  the  breath  of  passion  upon  us, 
urging  toward  the  feast  of  love?  Even  were  I  sure  that 
we  could  have  a  thousand  years  of  bliss  together  I  would 
not  lose  a  moment  of  it  for  the  world. 

GLUKO  (aside).  I  do  not  understand  the  motive  of  her 
play,  and  I  am  not  so  very  drunk  either. 

SYLVADOR.  Whatever  these  reverie-melodies  suggest  to 
you  they  lure  me  to  no  mood  for  dalliance;  they  bear  my 
thoughts,  rather,  skyward  to  innocent  love,  and  bid  me 
speed,  with  shame,  from  here,  this  witch's  brothel!  (  Thrust 
ing  her  away  from  him.} 

KIOWANA.  They  bid  me  nestle  in  my  lover's  arms.  That 
is  what  these  chords  of  music  say  to  me.  (  The  music  ceases, 
and  is  followed  by  sobs. )  Love  seems  to  weep  that  we  are 
losing  time  in  joining  its  revels.  Come,  Sylvador,  let  us  at 
once  away! 


K  i  o  w  a  n  a 

SYLVADOR.  Love  seems  to  weep  that  I  still  loiter  here. 
Away,  indeed,  but  not  away  with  you!  The  door  is  locked  ! 
— Sot,  open  it,  I  say!  for  I  have  done  with  vice  and  deviltry! 

(Darkness  again  and  wild  laughter.} 

KIOWANA.  What  do  they  mean?  They  can  not  take 
you  from  me,  Sylvador!  Quick!  Quick!  They  plan  a  mis 
chief — to  rob  us  of  each  other;  they  have  fastened  the 
door,  but  there  is  an  underground  passage — O,  I  am  dumb! 
He  can  not  hear  me!  What  hands  force  me  back  to  my  seat? 

0  hell!    hell!    thankless,   unrelenting   hell,   what    a    fool    I 
was  ever  to  have  served  you! 

(  The  darkness  gradually  turns  into  a  blue  glimmer  show 
ing  KIOWANA  on  her  dais,  with  one  of  the  shadowy  figures  on 
each  side  of  her.} 

FIRST  SHADOW  (speaking  with  the  voice  of  KIOWANA). 
Kneel,  Sylvador,  the  farce  is  over.  I  sought  but  to  test  the 
strength  of  your  love  for  her  whom  you  call  pure  and  holy. 

1  have  not  been  delaying  with  my  occult  work,    for  half  of 
it  is  ended — with  the  little  play  which  you  considered  real. 
The  second,  and  the  most  important,  part  I  now  begin. 

VOICE  OF  YAJEHO  (at  the  door).  The  death-bird  called 
to  the  rain-ghost  "I  know  of  heart's-blood  to  wash  away!" 
(The  baboon  echoes,  with  almost  a  moan.) 

SECOND  SHADOW  (with  the  -voice  of  KIOWANA).  Another 
word,  and  you  dance  on  live  coals! 

KIOWANA  (aside).  So  it  was  all  a  dream — a  cloud-fast 
passing  dream!  They  have  not  yet  begun  to  give  him  to  me, 
and  doubtless  they  never  will.  Delusion,  precious  delusion, 
why  must  I  part  with  you?  They  use  my  voice;  even 
Gluko  thinks  I  am  speaking.  I  can  no  more  than  witness 
their  whim's  pleasure,  and  their  whim's  pleasure  is,  I  fear, 
to  do  me  harm.  And  I  can  not  utter  a  word,  a  word  ! 


K  i  o  w  a  n  a 

SECOND  SHADOW.  You  have  spoken  truly,  Sylvador; 
human  passions  are  nothing  to  me  except  as  subjects  for 
my  caprice  or  gain;  love  and  hate  have  unsettled  your  will 
power,  so  I  must  use  mine  for  you — mine  that  is  always 
calm,  always  calm.  But  we  must  first  thoroughly  know  the 
natures  of  those  whose  actions  we  wish  to  control.  On  these 
walls,  at  my  demon-helped  summons,  the  life  of  her 
whom  you  worship  will  appear.  Draw  aside  the  curtains, 
Gluko,  hidden  things  must  be  exposed.  (GLUKO  touches  a 
secret  spring,  and  the  black  velvet,  covering  the  wall  in  front 
of  the  raised  seat,  is  drawn  aside,  revealing  a  massive  mirror. ) 

SECOND  SHADOW.  Away  with  illusion,  born  of  love! 
Away  with  distortion,  wrought  of  hate!  For  truths  no 
mortal  dare  deny  now  in  mirror-parade  pass  by.  Spirit 
friends  of  right  and  justice!  Powers  that  frown  on  fraud 
and  plottings!  Hands  that  uncover  smothered  wrongs,  the 
time  for  your  aid  has  arrived  !  Manifest  yourselves  ! 

SYLVADOR  {casting  away  his  staff  and  grasping,  under 
his  robe,  his  dagger).  Woman,  take  care,  take  care  ! 

GLUKO  (aside}.  Has  she  lost  her  clever  senses?  If 
sane,  what  is  her  game?  (Drawing  nearer  to  Sylvador. ,) 

KIOWANA.  I  see  their  plot's  end  now  ;  they'll  have  him 
kill  me  ;  and  he  can  never  know  that  I  am  guiltless  !  At  last 
I  have  you,  faces  !  Roderic's  and  Eldero's  !  To  taunt  me 
thus  is  folly.  What  care  I  for  having  murdered  them  ! 
And  yet  I  do  regret  my  terminating  their  careers,  since  I 
was  pleasing  you  when  I  did  so.  O,  your  triumphant  leers  ! 
As  though  you  were  the  ghosts  of  those  two  wretches,  whom 
I  pity  now,  returned  here  for  revenge  ! 

FIRST  SHADOW.  Put  back  your  dagger,  fool,  and  kneel 
for  pardon  from  scowling  immortals.  It  is  no  human  hands 
that  guide  these  awful  moments  ;  you  breathe  the  sultry  air 
of  ready  fate  and  vengeance  !  You  winged  sympathies, 
mysterious  wanderers  that  drift  unseen  upon  the  sighs  of 
wronged  hearts,  through  all  the  worlds  of  Chance  and 

30 


Ki 


o  w  a  n  a 


Change,  in  quest  of  opportunity  to  comfort  or  redress, 
fulfill  your  mission  now  !  Inspire  this  work  to  triumph  and 
to  end  ! 

ELEMENTARY  SPIRIT  VOICES.  Behold  !  our  help  is  given. 
We  fluttering  sympathies  of  the  air  were  here  before  you 
called  us  ;  we  never  fail  when  needed,  as  fleshly  sympathies 
fail. 

( The  room  becomes  gradually  filled  with  elementary 
shapes. ) 

KIOWANA  (aside}.  The  entire  spirit-world  has  come  to 
witness  a  mortal's  downfall! 

GLUKO  (aside).  The  Devil  himself  will  be  here  next, 
I  suppose  ;  his  court  seems  to  be  rapidly  assembling. 
(Drinks.) 

SECOND  SHADOW.  Look  into  the  mirror,  Sylvador. 
The  cause  of  your  unsettled  brain,  the  wine  that  drunkened 
your  career,  and  made  you  reel  with  foolish  dreams,  when 
steady  purpose  should  have  been  your  aim — arises  in  all  the 
glory  of  its  disturbing  charms — Woman — who  gives  no  rest 
even  to  the  dead,  but  lures  shades  from  their  flight  through 
the  ethereal  worlds,  to  aid  rewarding  or  avenging  fates  to 
bless  or  hurl  her  down,  down,  down  !  Prostrate  yourself 
before  her,  for  it  is  Woman  that  turns  the  entire  universe 
into  melodious  or  tormenting  noise.  (The  likeness  of  a 
beautiful  girl  appears  in  the  mirror,  reclining  musingly  on 
a  couch.  Meanwhile  the  two  shadows  move  slowly  away 
from  their  stations  by  the  raised  seat,  until  they  stand  between 
SYLVADOR  and  GLUKO.  They  look  with  malignant  triumph  all 
the  lime  at  KIOWANA,  who  quivers  convulsively.} 

GLUKO.  I  do  not  like  this  chilly  company  much.  You 
are  a  little  warmer,  are  you  not,  my  goblet?  You  would  not 
be  so  impolite,  I  know,  as  they  who  bar  my  curiosity  just 
when  the  play  becomes  most  interesting.  Ho,  ho  !  they  do 
still  more  than  stand  discourteously  in  front  of  me  ;  they 
cast  a  sluggish  spell  upon  my  limbs  !  I  can  not  move  my 

31 


K  1 


a  n  a 


legs,  and,  what  is  worse,  I  can  not  move  my  arm  to  take  a 
drink.  A  nightmare  revelry,  indeed  !  I  would  not  be  a  part 
of  it  again  for  all  the  amorous  priestesses  of  Hell.  What, 
not  allowed  to  drink?  Misfortune  never  spat  on  me  till  now  ! 
SYLVADOR.  Are  you  a  dream,  Norine?  a  madman's 
fancy,  dear?  longing  for  my  own  better  self  deranged? 
Whatever  you  may  be,  vision  or  witchery,  something  divine 
sends  you  here  to  let  me  say  ten  thousand  times  and  more, 
I  worship  you,  bright,  only  star  of  my  life's  dark  way,  that 
leads  me  upward  to  a  higher  world  of  thought  than  this 
earth  gives  to  the  wild  chaos  of  my  brain  !  Even  though 
you  be  but  a  glorious  delusion,  sprung  from  the  frenzy  of 
my  tormented  hope,  or  else  the  triumph  of  forbidden 
wisdom — I  pray  to  you,  likeness  of  her  I  love  ;  I  pray  to 
you,  Norine,  as  to  a  goddess  who,  frowning  on  her  subject, 
strikes  him  mad ;  the  air  grows  black  around  him  and, 
groping  in  the  darkness,  he  stumbles  upon  folly  and  deep 
sin.  I  pray  to  you,  divested  of  my  folly  (casting  off  his 
coronet  and  robe),  I  pray  to  you  with  curses  on  my  sins. 
I  thank  you  for  your  well  intended  service  (throwing  a 
purse  into  KIOWANA'S  lap)',  here  is  your  fee,  priestess;  I  need 
your  help  no  more.  My  truth  shall  be  my  only  charm, 
Norine,  to  win  at  least  a  smile  from  your  sweet  lips  ;  my 
breast's  confession  shall  be  my  sole  wand  that  forces  you  at 
last  to  look  upon  me.  You  do  not  know  that  you  alone  are 
my  salvation;  you  do  not  know  that  you  are  my  eternity; 
for,  if  you  knew,  you  could  not  help  but  love  me.  Norine, 
you  do  not  understand  my  words,  so  frail  and  quivering  with 
my  anguish — my  acts  so  strange  from  feverish  hunger  ;  for  I 
am  starving,  cold,  blind,  weak,  and  helpless  from  lack  of 
you,  my  food,  warmth,  sight,  and  rest  !  I  would  not  harm  a 
weed  that  cared  for  you,  Norine  ;  for  all  things  that  exist 
should  kneel  to  you.  But  how  can  I  refrain  from  hating 
him  that  dares  to  steal  my  soul  from  me?  Norine,  I 
ask  for  justice,  nothing  more  ;  and  justice  is  that  you  belong 

32 


Ki 


o  w  a  n  a 


to  me.  He  gained  your  love  through  trickery  ;  for  how  can 
you  be  the  soul  of  two  men?  Accept  your  own,  O  soul  ! 
Return  unto  your  Kingdom,  which  is  in  fierce  disorder  with 
out  your  guiding  hand.  Its  sovereign  reigns  absolutely;  its 
sovereign  is  its  only  creed  ;  its  sovereign  is  its  only  light. 
Bereft  of  its  sovereign,  tempestuous  night  holds  ceaseless 
sway.  Is  it  not  natural  to  war  against  another  kingdom 
that  has  lured  this  sovereign  away?  Is  it  not  natural  to  use 
the  same  means  to  win  back,  as  were  employed  to  dispos 
sess?  Sword  to  match  sword;  scheme  to  meet  scheme;  magic 
against  magic  ;  for  an  angel's  heart.  But  see,  I  hurl  aside 
my  sword  and  anger  !  And  see,  I  drop,  with  shame,  cold 
plots  and  devil's  aid  !  I  stand  with  rny  whole  being  uncon 
cealed,  without  a  plea  or  weapon.  Look  me  through  and 
through  !  Recognize  your  Kingdom,  sovereign  soul,  shat 
tered  by  loss  of  you  ! 

( The  figure  in  the  glass  smiles  and  stretches  forth  her  arms.} 
Norine,  at  last  you  recognize  your  own  !  The  dead 
begins  to  live  in  the  hope  of  that  chaste  smile.  Norine,  let 
me  but  breathe  to  give  you  joy  ! 

( The  forms  of  men  appear,  one  after  the  other,  on  the 
mirror,  and  each  is  in  turn  embraced  and  caressed  by  the 
image  of  the  girl.}  Norine,  forgive!  it  is  not  I.  Some 
strange  perversion  captures  me  !  Insanity  has  usurped  my 
reason  !  It  is  not  I  who  thus  offends  !  O  cursed  brain—  I 
will  tear  it  out  !  That  it,  though  mad,  should  think  of  you 
in  an  unholy  manner  !  you,  the  purest  ray  of  heaven  that 
illumines  the  shadows  below  !  My  death  alone  can  atone 
for  this,  Norine  !  I  will  crush  forever  the  momentary  haunt 
of  a  diseased  spirit,  that  dares  to  wrong  my  soul  !  (Draw 
ing  his  dagger  and  pointing  it  against  his  breast. )  The 
home  of  my  true  self  that  worships  you,  Norine,  has  been 
invaded  by  unhealthy  things  that  commit  sacrilege  upon  its 
sacred  altar.  See,  I  destroy  that  profaned  temple  with  its 
polluters,  in  horror  that  I  once  dwelt  therein  ! 

33 


K 


1  o  w  a  n  a 


FIRST  SHADOW  {speaking  with  the  voice  of  KIOWANA). 
Ha,  ha  !  Death!  death!  —  the  fate  of  woman's  fool!  Death, 
death! 

SYLVADOR.  O  no,  this  temple  is  not  profaned,  I  am 
guiltless  entirely  of  this  damnable  crime  !  Hear,  hear  !  it  is 
this  reptile's  bite  —  she,  slave  to  vileness,  hates  the  pure  ! 
Pardon,  Norine,  my  wrong  to  you  in  giving  this  worm  a 
chance  to  crawl  upon  and  slime  your  saintly  name. 
Blasphemous  hag,  die  !  die  !  {Stabbing  KIOWANA.)  At  last 
fate  smiles  on  me,  Norine,  since  it  permits  me  to  avenge  an 
insult  to  my  soul. 

KIOWANA  {aside).  Fiends,  you  have  lost  !  To  die  by 
the  hand  of  him  I  love  is  not  a  punishment  but  a  joy  ! 

SHADOWS  {moving  away  from  GLUKO  to  the  mirror  and 
speaking  with  their  own  -voices').  Draw  down  the  curtains, 
Gluko;  the  Comedy  of  Justice  is  over,  and  ends  in  tragedy. 

GLUKO.  They  call  me  sot,  but  I'm  not  drunk;  for  if  I 
were  I  should  understand  the  meaning  of  this  mystery  which 
turns  me  into  a  puppet  and  a  part  of  the  show  !  Well,  I  am 
glad  that  you  are  gone  ;  you  are  not  sociable  at  all.  What 
about  drawing  the  curtains  down?  You  can  do  it  more  quickly 
yourselves.  {The  curtains  again  slowly  cover  the  mirror.} 

So,  you  let  me  use  my  limbs  again?  And  here  is  still  a 
drop  in  the  cup.  I  will  swallow  it  and  grow  wiser,  perhaps, 
and  learn  what  is  going  on.  I  fell  into  something  of  a  doze, 
but  I  heard  the  scuffle  of  quarreling  words.  It  must  have 
been  a  true  love's  brawl  since  it  ends,  like  such  brawls,  in 
sleepy  peace.  Ho,  ho!  no  wonder  we  are  asleep!  I'd  be 
quiet  too,  with  a  hole  in  my  breast  —  unless  I  could  mate  it 
with  a  similar  hole  —  and  my  own  blood  soaking  the  floor  ! 
What,  priestess,  you  did  not  do  this  yourself?  You  can  not 
speak,  mistress?  You  are  surely  dead  !  You  were  not 
always  polite  to  me,  and  I  was  not  mild  as  a  servant  should 
be,  but  you  lent  me  the  pleasure  once  of  your  charms,  if  but 
for  a  passing  hour  or  more,  and  even  though  Gluko  be  only 

34 


K  i  o  w  a  n  a 

a  sot,  drink  never  suggested  that  he  should  forget  that  the 
woman  who  gave  him  a  moment's  delight  had  a  claim  to 
the  protection  of  his  sword.  So  I  must  have  a  word  with 
you,  sir  fool  by  the  name  of  Sylvador.  Are  you  to  blame  for 
this  red  mess?  If  you  are,  I  must  make  it  a  little  redder  still. 

SYLVADOR.  I  have  no  blade  to  waste  on  you;  you  were 
only  this  wanton's  tool. 

GLUKO.  Wanton  though  she  was,  she  loved  you,  fool, 
and  for  that  you  owed  her  some  consideration. 

SYLVADOR.  Do  not  call  decayed  feelings  love.  Hand 
me  the  key  to  unlock  this  door.  I  am  in  no  mood  to  trifle 
with  a  wanton's  cur  ! 

GLUKO.  But  the  cur  means  to  trifle  with  the  woman- 
killer.  Fastidious  murderer,  draw  ! 

SYLVADOR.  Must  you  have  it  then?  I  will  soil  your  gay 
coat  with  a  mixture  of  swine's  and  ass's  blood  !  ( They 
fight.} 

GLUKO.  Drink  against  sobriety — let  us  see  which  wins  ! 
(SYLVADOR  falls.)  Drink  wins,  as  it  always  does  if  you  only 
take  enough. 

SYLVADOR.  Norine,  though  I  die  in  a  haunt  of  shame, 
my  thoughts  to  the  last  were  of  pure  love  for  you.  (Dies.) 

SHADOWS.  Our  work  is  done.  Kiowana,  farewell  !  By 
this  time  you  know  that  the  dead  can  avenge. 

KIOWANA  (aloud).  I  can  speak  when  it  is  too  late.  I 
thank  you,  Gluko.  There  is  hope  for  me  in  dying  with  him 
who  loved  so  faithfully.  I  intended  to  kill  you  this  very 
night  ;  take  all  my  wealth,  Gluko,  and  flee  far  from  here. 
But  do  me  one  favor  before  you  go  •  assist  me  to  his  body. 
(GLUKO  carries  her  to  SYLVADOR'S  corpse.*)  Fiends,  I  defy 
you  !  (Falls  upon  the  body.) 

SHADOWS.  We  are  not  fiends  ;  but  though  you  aban 
doned  your  service  to  Hell  you  could  not  avoid  its  results. 
Still,  you  had  your  opportunity  to  escape  ;  before  the  voice 
of  Music,  Heaven's  priest,  even  we,  Revenge,  departed. 

35 


K  i  o 


w  a  n  a 


KIOWANA.  I  understand  all  now  and  can  not  hate  you, 
shadows  of  my  wronged  attendants — Roderic,  Eldero — but 
your  revenge  has  failed!  My  love  for  him  saves  me  from 
being  damned! 

SHADOWS.  We  will  see  when  we  meet  below.  (All  the 
shadows  in  the  room  disappear.} 

( The  door  swings  open;  shouts  of"  Down  with  the  witch  and 
the  witch's  crew!"  are  heard  in  the  building,  together  with  the 
crash  of  falling  doors.) 

(Enter  YAJEHO,  with  the  baboon  in  his  arms,  frantically 
gesticulating  and  chattering.) 

YAJEHO.      They  break  down  the  house  ! — so  many  angry 

people!    They  cry  "Kill  Kiowana!  "     O,  where  can  we  hide? 

GLUKO  (fastening  the  door  with  heavy  chains  hanging  on 

either  side  of  the  wall) .     We  will  make  them  a  little  angrier 

still  before  they  get  us,  Yajeho  ! 

KIOWANA.  Listen  to  me,  Yajeho  :  There  is  a  trap-door 
behind  my  chair — it  leads  down  to  a  passage  to  the  sea — 
forget  this  place — earn  an  honest  living  in  another  land — 
take  the  trumpet  of  Gluko — you  play  well — follow  music 
and  you  never  can  be  lost  !  (GLUKO  opens  the  trap-door  and 
assists  YAJEHO  and  the  baboon  to  descend  through  the  opening; 
he  then  closes  it  again.)  Has  he  gone,  Gluko? 

GLUKO.      Gone,  with  the  trumpet  and  baboon. 

KIOWANA.      Snatch  the  jewels  off  my  fingers  and  fly,  too! 

( The  same  sweet  strains  of  -music  which  floated  through  the 
room  before,  hover  again  above  and  about.) 

GLUKO.      I  want  to  listen  to  this  music  first. 

KIOWANA.  Saved  !  Saved  !  The  voice  of  Music  calls  ! 
All  the  shadows  flee  away  from  you,  Music  !  This  time  you 
will  not  have  to  weep  for  me  !  I  follow  you  to  the  soul  of 
Sylvador !  (Dies.) 

( The  music  changes  into  a  rhapsody  and  ends  in  a  glorious 
crash  of  triumph.) 

36 


K 


i  o  w  a  n  a 


GLUKO  (picking  up  his  goblet).  My  cup  is  empty — the 
music  has  stopped.  Old  Death  might  as  well  have  me  now. 
(Stabs  himself.)  Come  in!  Come  in  !  You'll  get  nothing  but 
bones  !  (The  -mob  beats  and  howls  at  the  door  "  Kill  KIOWANA  I 
Kill  all  the  witch's  crew!")  I'd  like  to  be  able  to  see  your 
surprise.  My  last  sight  of  life  is  its  folly  \  (Dies.) 


37 


ISA. 

A  Village  Church-yard.  The  moonlight  shows  I  SA  standing 
by  a  tomb  along  the  burial-way. 

ISA.  This  is  the  night  they  say  the  dead  arise  and  march 
along  the  burial-way,  in  memory  of  the  moments  when  their 
bodies  last  saw  life.  Would  he  but  come — but  come! 

THE  WINDS.  You  are  with  us,  mournful  mortal,  finding 
rest  in  restlessness. 

ISA.  Rest?  Rest  in  hope  of  death's  forgiveness!  Rest 
in  the  dream  that  he  will  pardon  me!  Who  are  you,  voices 
of  deep  sympathy,  that  know  my  heart  yet  do  not  hate  me? 

THE  WINDS.  The  winds  float  through  the  worlds  of 
Life  and  Death;  they  thus  can  pity  but  never  hate. 

ISA.  But  ah,  those  voices  in  the  distance!  are  they  still 
yours?  Winds,  tell  me,  are  they  yours?  Warm,  trembling 
hope  glides  through  my  breast,  so  long  cold  with  despair; 
for  these  are  surely  human  voices,  raised  in  martial  ecstasy! 
But  they  do  not  reply.  The  winds  have  fled  from  me. 

THE  WINDS.  Unrest  must  flee  from  Certainty;  we  will 
return,  but  never  more  to  you. 

ISA.  Are  shadows  Certainty?  I  know  the  dead  are 
coming,  yet  have  no  fear  at  all;  they  bring  a  hope  the  living 
could  not  bring. 

VOICES     OF    APPROACHING   SPIRITS,    SINGING.        Life,    thoU 

precious  play  of  error!  wildest  dream  of  all  eternity!  Thee  we 
worship,  once  so  real!  In  death's  light  we  still  love  life's 
night! 

( Two  by  two,  in  slow  procession  figures  pass  the  lonely  woman. 
But  she  looks  at  none  of  them ,  till  two  aged  forms  approach ,  zvho 
stretch  forth  their  pale  arms  toward  her.) 

THE  AGED  FORMS  (standing  still}.  Isa,  our  daughter, 
do  not  so  distress  yourself!  Claude  has  forgiven  you — 
Claude  understands. 

38 


s  a 


ISA.  Father! — mother!  does  he  come,  too?  Father — 
mother!  where  is  he? 

FIRST  FORM.  See!  your  husband  walks  behind  us,  he, 
— alone — solitary  of  all  this  procession, — waiting  for  the 
empty  space  at  his  side  to  be  filled  with  his  companion  shade. 

SECOND  FORM.  Can  you  not  forgive  yourself,  Isa,  for 
being  a  victim  to  the  frenzy  of  dogma?  The  dead  know  all, 
and  do  not  censure;  the  dead  are  troubled  only  by  the  grief 
of  the  living. 

( Without  replying,  ISA  casts  herself  before  a  tall  spirit 
advancing  alone.) 

ISA.  Claude,  forgive  your  wife  her  folly  in  casting  off 
Love,  the  perfect  truth,  for  the  sake  of  Creed,  the  artificial. 

SPIRIT  OF  CLAUDE.  As  you  never  have  been  faithless 
to  your  love  and  wifely  duties,  cease  lamenting  over  an  error 
sprung  from  the  shadows  of  a  mistaken  world.  As  soon  as 
I  was  freed  from  the  flesh,  sanity's  prison,  I  understood  and 
pitied  the  delusion  of  mortals,  the  maddest  revel  of  which 
is  religious  bigotry.  How  death  laughs  at  creeds,  whose 
insane  power  ends  with  one  short  earthly  life!  Isa,  dear, 
the  only  pain  you  can  give  me  is  your  self-reproach  for 
moments  that  were  not  guilty,  but  sick.  Think  of  the 
coming  hour  that  unites  us  forever,  when  we  shall  look 
on  our  separation  as  a  strange  scene  of  a  fantastic  play. 
(Moving  on.) 

ISA.  And  do  you  think  that  I  can  leave  you,  after  your 
forgiveness,  Claude?  The  day  of  hope  has  fallen  on  me; 
shall  I  turn  from  it  to  the  night  of  despair?  That  hour  is 
here — that  hour,  my  husband,  which  awakens  us  forever 
from  ill-dreams  of  divided  love! 

(Springing  into  the  space  at  CLAUDE'S  side.  The  procession 
moves  on,  singing,  until  it  is  lost  to  sight.) 

39 


s  a 


SONG  OF  THE  SPIRITS.  Death,  we  worship  thee!  Death, 
we  return  to  thee,  pitying  friend  of  troubled  hearts!  O  thou 
who  unitest  divided  love,  take  us  back  from  the  sorrows  of 
Life! 

( The  light  of  dawn  slowly  appears.} 

THE  WINDS.  Death  has  gone,  and  Life  is  here,  so  now 
the  winds  can  moan  again.  Enter,  blindness  and  mistake, 
ministers  to  flesh  and  breath. 

{Enter  SEXTON.) 

SEXTON.  I  wonder  if  they  marched  last  night,  as  people 
say  they  do?  I  kept  my  shutters  tightly  closed;  I'd  much 
rather  bury  than  be  buried  myself,  and  who  sees  the  dead 
walk  must  soon  die. — What's  this? — I  wish  I  had  not  come! 
There  may  be  ghosts  straggling  about  here  still — a  woman! 
dead,  on  the  burial-way  !  By  the  tongue  of  my  wife,  it  is 
Isa!  Poor  wench  !  she  surely  was  out  of  her  head,  or  she 
would  not  have  dared  to  meet  the  dead !  I  buried  her 
husband  a  year  ago — she  grieved  herself  sick  and  mad,  they 
say;  and  simply  because  they  quarreled  about  church  she 
imagined  she  had  broken  his  heart.  So  young  and  so  pretty  ! 
She  must  have  been  mad  !  for  even  had  she  broken  his  heart, 
as  she  raved,  remorse  could  not  patch  it  together  again. 
Better  had  she  comforted  herself  with  another  heart. 
Remorse  brings  but  work  for  my  spade. 


4o 


APR  0  3  1985 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  569  480     7 


